My Imperfect Angel
by thiswillbeourfairytale
Summary: He wanted to forget her. That, is why he had to see her. SET RIGHT AFTER MUSICAL ENDING & COMPLETED.
1. The Difficulties Of Forgetting

It was so dark.

He saw nothing but blackness despite his eyes being wide open. He felt nothing too. He was encased in a place – in a dark refuge where he would never be freed. Oh, how he wanted to see light – to _feel _light. But it was darkness again. It would always be dark now and it would never be any better.

_Get used to it._

He desperately wanted to. He knew there was very little chance of him ever moving again. He was here, like a dark, grotesque gargoyle – forever hated, forever immobilized. He wanted to get used to this darkness. He wanted to get used to this empty, hollow space that filled his insides with hate and anger. He wanted to get used to this _loneliness. _The loneliness that was familiar to him before but alien now. He wanted…He wanted…

_He wanted her._

He led out a deep, choked sob.

Cold, wet tears streamed down his face covering the tracks of the old ones before it. The darkness showed no sympathy towards him and it seemed to swallow him as he cried. He ended up cowering even deeper into the corner of this small space, head down, hands clutching the top of his head as he heaved irregular breaths.

_She _will never know him. _She _will never know how he felt now. _She _will never realize truly how much she'd hurt him. _She _will never see him sob for her. It was _she _that gave him this darkness. It was _she._

The sobs began to reduce till there was silence.

All that could be heard were the soft, light breaths that evocated from his chest. His mind was swimming with thoughts. Out of the plenty, only one thought stood out.

_You must forget, Erik._

He moaned. How could he forget? How could he forget when the very thought that _she _could be with that _child _getting married forces bile to develop in his throat? How could he forget how much…how much…

_You must forget, Erik._

He stood up, stumbling slightly, realizing that he hadn't moved for a few hours. In fact, all he had done in the time was cry. Pushing open the opening of the passageway, he descended down the corridors. It was dark here too. But, he liked it that way.

He reached _home. _When _she _had left, he'd blown every candle out. He'd destroyed all illuminations. All ornaments. He'd destroyed everything. Even his own piano had been object of his wrath. As he looked around, he saw nothing but the black hell again.

_What have I done? _

Scrambling as he found a candle, he lit it with the box of matches beside. The small twinkle of the candlelight stunned him as he looked at it pensively. He watched it twitch and dance against the darkness he had created. It was oddly beautiful and it entranced him for a few more quiet moments. The damage he had made was highlighted now as his eyes travelled around but one particular object caught his eye.

A small shining diamond in the void.

He walked over to his desk and picked up the ring coldly. It was _her _ring. A memory flashed. He ignored it. As he looked at it, everything seemed dark again despite that one piece of candlelight. The object triggered his insides and set off hurt emotions into the point of exposure. Exposure, in the form of tears.

But he didn't feel like crying anymore.

He'd cried enough. Holding the ring in one hand, he came over towards the misty waters and exhaled. He hesitated at first. But the second time he tried, he succeeded.

The ring was thrown into the air into the dark, lifeless waters. He watched as it sunk, emotionless. He continued watching it till it disappeared.

A second passed.

Everything was still dark. He turned around and eyed his home. It wasn't home anymore. It was his home when _she _was here. But she wasn't here anymore. There were far too many memories. _Far too many. _Wherever he looked, _she _was there…

_You must forget, Erik._

The thought told him. Icily, he returned to his desk and picked up his mask. And then, he lifted his lit candle and wandered over to _her. _His version of her. His immortalization of _her. _

He threw the candle and watched it consume her. "Goodbye." He murmured, turning around and beginning to wade in the waters.

_Christine…I love you…_

He stopped and watched the flames devour his home. His piano. His life.

_Christine…I love you… Christine…I love you… Christine…I love you…_

Breaths were muffled as he stopped. The thought broke him. _Please stop,_ he pleaded. His head hurt. His _heart _hurt.

Oh, how he loved her.

Oh, how it hurt.

But, it was over now. _It's over now. _Memories clawed through him as he escaped the clutches of the flames.

_Forget me…Forget me…_

The Phantom departed. Hearing only the ghosts of the past as he escaped.

_Christine…I love you…_

_Please don't forget me._

"Please."


	2. The Little Girl Who Lost Her Angel

_Author's note:_

I feel so awful for not putting one on the first chapter, so I decided to do one here :D Now, this story was actually based on what I thought the two characters would've gone through if they had met each other once more. I'm assuming it'd be a four/five shot, but may stretch to six. I really love this musical, so yeah. Why not?

I'd loved if you reviewed because I'd love to know if you'd read it :D but I don't mind.

PS: Thank you for the reviews, you made my day :D You just make me want to write more.

POTO doesn't belong to me :D

* * *

He haunted her.

His face. _His eyes. _His voice.

They haunted her.

She did not get any sleep last night. She twisted and coiled into the sheets – hearing _his _song. Hearing _his _voice singing to her. Telling her to return.

Raoul had entered when she began screaming. He had asked if she'd like to join him in his room – she had refused. He was hesitant but after she kissed him assumingly, he obliged.

The rest of the night was spent wide-eyed in darkness.

She made the mistake of turning back when she'd returned his ring. She saw his face. The clarity of his expression stunned her. There was so much _pain._ So much heartbreak. She had received the urge to run back.

But what was she to say? He had said he loved her. She had said nothing and the silence spoke volumes. He understood. She understood. But she was still scared.

_Without her angel, the little girl is frightened._

She was frightened enough that the moment she awoke, her first word had been, _'Angel.' _Angel. My angel. _Where are you angel? _

She whimpered. Closing her eyes, she waited as her mind once more vividly constructed her final memory of him. _The pain that danced in dark eyes. _The tears. The _love. _

She began to cry.

_I'm so sorry. _

And that was when she decided.

She had asked Raoul if she could go and visit Meg. He was discerned and had urged for her to be escorted. She agreed.

"Return soon, Christine." Raoul pressed, passing her a tired smile. He didn't look like he slept much either.

"I will." She returned the smile and departed, tongue tingling at the lie.

She loved Raoul. Very much so. However, there were just things in life that he didn't need to know. Not now. Things he'd never understand.

And someone could.

--

"Thank you."

"Are you sure you would be alright from here, Madame?"

She smiled tiredly, "I'll be fine, Philippe. I need to purchase something first anyway, I shall return soon."

Philippe nodded, "Alright, I will just go to those stables. I will be waiting."

She descended from the carriage and passed the driver a small wave.

It felt awful lying. She had never been much of a liar. However, Raoul would have never approved. Not in a century. If he had his way, guards would have stood outside her own room.

No, she needed to do this alone and unknown.

Weakly battling against the force of the crowds, she whittled through slow and gentle. She knew very little about the town. There were stands, stone pavements, horses – colour, noise and people. It was uplifting and if she hadn't been in such a rush, she would've loved to stop.

_The Opera house. _She reached it and she almost gaped.

It was like a ghost house. One, she'd seen in her nightmares. There was a certain blackness about the place – there was no life, no energy and no singing. The door was open and yet, it almost seemed locked shut as no-one queued for tickets like they did every night. The accident happened two nights ago and already, the once acclaimed house of music was almost _invisible._

It was the dark spot amidst the colour.

Confused, she ascended upwards into the entrance. Inside, it was worse.

It was empty. The once alive reception was dark and dimly-lit. Dirt seemed to be highlighted and the glossy floor was now stained. The corridors that branched seemed heavy and lonely. Heartbroken.

She stood there. _Mortified._

And then, she heard a voice.

"Are you alright there, Madame?"

She turned. Stood there was a young man with a bright smile. "Yes," She answered, sounding rather croaky, "I meant – no…I'm not…I – I – what happened?"

The man seemed baffled by the question, "Did you not hear of what happened here?"

"Yes, I was –" _here. _"I just- have they closed?"

He seemed more comfortable now as he shifted in his position, "There's a chance of that, Madame. It's just that the damage had been so dismaying that they had decided to perhaps…well, not continue…until at least, everything's sorted…"

_It was just the chandelier…_ "But how could there be? It was just the chandelier…I'm sure," She jested, blinking as she watched the man laugh heartily.

"Madame…" He trailed, "The complete underground of the opera house has been burnt down. Some of the overground too but definitely all of the cellars were destroyed."

_Oh my…_

She didn't answer.

The man blinked once more, concerned. "Madame?" He asked, "Madame?"

She opened her mouth but found no words. She stood there, confused. Her insides writhed in confusion…disbelief…despair. _Gone. _Burnt. _Gone. _

"I – everything?" She choked out.

The man nodded, "Yes, it's difficult to access. The team reached the cellars in the early morning. We found very little. The worst hit…was this little…place… right at the bottom. Complete ash. Everything burnt down to the core."

"Little place?" _No…no…_ "Were there any fatalities?"

The man shook his head, "No. No bodies. They told us to check but there were none. We even checked in the waters-"

"Waters?" She blinked then gasped, as if running out of air.

He failed to notice, "Yes – the little place…it was across this body of water. We checked and swam in but nothing. We only found one thing that survived." The man patted his pocket and she watched as he took something out and opened a closed palm.

A small diamond. Small. Shiny…

_Christine…I love you…_

She eyed the ring. _The ring. _The man watched her reaction and chuckled, misunderstanding, "Beauty, no? It was in the water. I stepped on it and decided to keep it. It was rather-" He paused however as the woman fished the ring out of his hand and eyed it, eyes beginning to fog.

"Madame?" He asked, "Is – is it yours?"

There was a moment of silence.

"Yes." She breathed, levelling her eyes to the man's, "And there were no bodies?"

He shook his head, "No Madame and if there were any, I'd assume they would've been burnt to ashes."

And that was when the first of many tears descended down her face.

Every ounce of emotion poured into that one crystallised tear.

"May I have this?" Before he could answer however, she was already at the door.

Sat on the steps.

Head on her arms.

And sobbing.

Sobbing, for her lost heaven.


	3. I Found You, But Did You Find Me?

_The hardest part of loving someone is knowing when to let go,  
and knowing when to say goodbye. -- Anonymous._

* * *

Erik watched her, eyes dancing, heart thrusting – every part of his body thudding with emotion.

It was about two hours to midnight. He had known that the _boy _was living here so it was presumable that she would to and of course, he'd been correct. He had found her.

_I have found you._

He had been watching her for the good part of twenty minutes – if not more, considering that he normally lost time when he observed Christine. He got lost in everything about her. Her hair. Her voice. Her eyes. And, he knew for a fact that she was even more radiant when she was asleep.

When she slept, Erik knew he's set eyes upon a fallen angel.

He watched silently. Watching her was something he had mastered - after all he had done it continuously in the course of a number of years; her feelings for her deepened because of these silent moments where he'd take time from his music to watch his _other _love. Although, over the years, music failed to live up to how much he loved Christine. In fact, Christine became his _only _love by the time…everything happened.

He would never understand why things ended like it had. It had started so well.

The man closed his eyes, recalling his first memory of the woman. He remembered being frustrated over the Opera he had been composing at the time and he recalled…_singing. _And when he was doing so, he failed to notice the fact that someone was _listening. _And when he saw who she was, he was at awe at her expression.

She…she was entranced. And immediately, everything began. He began to become very curious about this strange, new creature and he found himself constantly following her. Watching her. Understanding her. He also found himself _singing _to her. They communicated through songs. They communicated through _passion._

To Erik, when they sang together – it was like a beautiful sunrise. A light in the middle of the darkness. Hope in the midst of despair. _Love _in hate.

It was magic.

And then, soon after he began composing songs _about _her, he heard her sing. And it had been his turn to be spellbound. She had the most captivating voice. And their voices blended – it blended so well – almost, as if they belonged.

And, in those wonderful years, they sang together a lot. When he sang, his voice would call her softly through the walls and she would come running. She'd _run _to him.

_Not away from me, _He thought, pained, _She'd run to me._

To Erik, the feelings he expressed throughout that span of time had been extraordinary. He'd never felt _loved. _But it felt so good _to _love. Every day, he'd wake up and the first thing he'd think about is _her. _He'd immediately dash to his piano and begin work on what he should teach her – to sing to her and then he'd be there…awaiting her.

And she too would be there. And for a while, Erik thought that perhaps she loved him too.

And that thought – it caused his feelings to _intensify._ Curiosity turned to love. Love, turned to _protectiveness. _And protectiveness turned to _obsession._

Christine was a drug.

He knew she was wrong. He knew she was dangerous. He knew she'd cause ruptures in emotion for him. But, he loved her all the same. He became _addicted _to her and this addiction was so strong, he began to lose all the feelings of love.

She became a possession. So much so, that he _killed _for her.

Erik's eyes lowered. He regretted that. Of course he did. Erik held no sympathy for the world but his morals were straight. It was Christine who brought them askew. The fact that murder was the lowest form of expression slipped off his mind. Only one thought speared into him, the moment he let blood stain his hands for eternity:

_This is all for you._

He wanted Christine to be the star. That was all. If anything, Erik had wanted to hear her sing. He wanted to hear her sing all the time, if that'd be possible. No, he didn't think he'd ever go as far as killing for love.

But he did. And after she left, he thought as far as killing himself.

When Christine was in the Opera House, Erik found his refuge. She made him lose himself in ways he would never understand. He found himself _smiling _and found that singing with her made everything worthwhile.

He forgot about his face. He forgot all his loathing. He just wanted to listen to her. To accompany her. To feel like he _belonged. _

He felt _human._

He spent every waking day thinking about Christine. And so, he lived for her.

When she departed, Erik found no reason why he should continue living. No reason at all. A hole was placed in the middle of him. No more songs…no more feeling…

Just hate.

He wanted to hate Christine. Just so that forgetting her would be easier. But he couldn't.

Erik knew only one thing he could do to make the forgetting hurt less and to quicken the process. And this was to see her again. To watch her again. That, was all he wanted.

One final moment with her. One final memory.

But as he stood, he found himself deprived of words and emotion. His feet refused to consider departing. He couldn't _leave. _This was because he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay. He wanted to stay with her forever. To see her forever.

To be her angel, forever.

But he had to leave.

Soon.

Erik stood on her balcony. He watched her through two large glass doors. She slept on her bed alone with sheets draped over her. Her face shone through the night's darkness. He noticed that she seemed to be turning around a lot. Muttering from time to time. The expression on her face changed and sometimes, Erik swore he heard her project a small sob. He supposed she was having a dream.

_Maybe it's about me._

It seemed like an unpleasant one. Erik concluded he was correct.

She was a beautiful sleeper. He wished he could be there, to comfort her in her nightmare. To sing a lullaby to soothe her. He wished –

Erik watched as Christine lifted an eye open.

He stiffened and immediately pressed himself to the wall, away from the clear glass doors. Erik stilled. His breaths were held as he openly listened – an alarmed call, an opening door – there was nothing.

_It's me, Christine. Understand._

He waited for a few more seconds and then decided that perhaps he had imagined it. _Yes. _His longing to watch her took over and he returned to his earlier position only to find a figure behind the glass.

_Christine._

She stood, like a ghostly figure, eyes wide – yet, it was not of fright as far as Erik could read.

She was whispering something and was looking at him…relieved.

Erik stood, speechless. And then, he found himself understanding what she was saying behind the glass.

_Angel, _she was saying, _Angel…_

_She's calling for me…_

"I am here," Erik breathed into the glass, "Your angel is here, Christine."

He pressed a hand on the glass. His cold touch indented on the condensation that had already formed.

_I am here Christine, _Erik thought firmly, _Always. _

* * *

Christine watched _his _hand touch the glass.

It was a dream. It _must _be.

But, dream or not, she clicked the door open and did the first thing she could do to confirm if this was all a delusion.

She stepped forwards and pulled the man into a gentle embrace. As she held him close, Christine found herself lacking of words.

In fact, she could only think of two words to say.

"You're…here."

And just at that, she found herself urging him closer.

His feel comforted her. And, that was all she needed.

He was real.

He had returned.

* * *

Author's Note:

Hi guys! Sorry I don't think I made it very clear that Erik wasn't dead (I couldn't kill off Erik! I LOVE ERIK!) haha. But yes, I'm glad you guys are enjoying it and I am very flattered, so thank you very, very much and I will definitely keep this quick update going.

I just realized how sad my Erik is. Unfortunately, this is all I could really imagine him being! I think this fanfic would be a little longer than I had intended but it wouldn't drag on, I hope. Anyway, yes, thank you so very much and I hope you continue with your comments as I love them!

PS: I thought deduced meant conclusion? Anyway, I'd change it to reduce. My vocabulary fails. Thanks for letting me know!


	4. Three Hearts, Two Paths and One Girl

_True love is when  
you put someone on a pedestal,  
and they fall -  
but you are there  
to catch them._

_--Anonymous_

* * *

Christine had dreamt about him.

_He _was perishing in the flames. _Calling _for her name. Cursing. Swearing. Telling her it was _her _fault.

But, he was also crying.

Crying for her.

And she too was crying and she had reached out for him. She had reached to save him but every time she came closer – he seemed to move further.

_I could never save you._

Christine had been shouting at him in her dream. Telling him she was sorry. Telling him that she didn't want him to die. Telling him how she wanted her angel.

She had watched the flames elegantly flourish till it had almost devoured him. And her angel had screamed – he had screamed…

_CHRISTINE!_

He had screamed her name. And she had collapsed on the floor, sobbing.

And then – and then – the flames swallowed him.

Christine, in her dream, screamed, still hearing the antagonistic ringing of his voice.

_CHRISTINE!_

She awoke – breathing heavily.

And immediately her eyes had drawn to her balcony and there – she saw her angel. Indeed like her angel of music. His mask. His body standing tall and proud. And he stared at her.

Christine then blinked for a moment and he… disappeared. She desperately wished it had not been her cruel imagination. And so, she walked towards the balcony doors, robe wrapped around her tightly and…found him.

Waiting for her. Looking at her.

And now, she was in his arms. _Safe._

For a few moments, neither spoke.

She just held onto him for a few tighter moments. It took him a while to embrace her back but when he did, he pushed them closer together till all they could feel each other's warmth. Each other's pain. Each other's beating harmony.

It was he, who broke the silence. "My Christine," He murmured, breathing the scent of her hair, "I did not mean to wake you."

His voice. Oh, how Christine missed it. It had a melody. And when he spoke to her, Christine found herself struggling for words.

Especially, when he murmured. His whispers were as light and fulfilling as fresh air.

"Angel…" Christine replied, "Angel…I thought – I thought you perished." She then raised her head and eyed him, eyes centred on his, "I thought you had died."

She then found herself being forced away as the embrace was broken. He had stepped back and had lowered his head. "I had died, Christine." He said, lifting his head ever so slightly, Christine of course understanding what he meant, "But I could never leave, without saying goodbye."

_I did. _Christine thought bitterly, guilt streaming through her veins at the two words. He seemed to have noticed her change of expression and his eyes seemed to soften.

She had so many questions. So many things to say. So many tears to cry. So many…but so little time. Forgetting everything, Christine relaxed her look and lowered her voice.

"Angel," She whispered, "We must not speak here. He shall hear us." Raoul, of course and her angel seemed to have understood.

"I agree," He replied coldly, not particularly glad she even referred to him even if it had been subtle, "Let us go there." Christine watched as he gestured a sleeved arm towards the large garden beneath.

She blinked, "But-"

He raised his head and noted her concerns. Proudly, he bowed, "I shall go first. You won't fall Christine. You have my word." And she believed him.

She watched as he descended down the various vines of the side off the walls and the short pipes that ran down. The height wasn't particularly significant but it caused her heart to thud wearily behind her chest. She supposed he had managed to ascend in the same way.

He had done it soundlessly. And, when he landed, he gestured for her. His eyes telling the message:

_I'll never let you fall._

Christine nodded and bleakly she followed his lead although her try had not been so graceful. She struggled to hold on and found herself constantly muffling screams of terror. She didn't dare look down but she did hear something advised from below:

_Slow down._

She did and after managing to conquer the pipes, she escaped unharmed.

As promised.

She landed on the ground, feeling slightly off balance and breathed a silent sigh of relief as she found herself on a flat surface. As she glanced at the man – there was something in his eyes.

Amusement.

But he was soon walking again and he stopped at a small spot beneath one of the number of trees in the yard – an isolated spot away from the windows and the doors of the house.

"Come." He told her and she followed.

It was a full moon outside and Christine found herself eyeing it then shuddering.

Reaching him, Christine found that he too had been staring at the moon but he looked at it with no repulsion. In fact, he looked at it as if it was a painting.

And then, he looked at her and gave her the same look. She found that he always seemed to look at her in this way.

_As if she was Paris' greatest work of art._

They looked at each other for a moment. Christine opened her mouth to slice the quiet atmosphere but he beat her to it.

"Firstly, Christine," He told her, head lowered once more, "My name is Erik. I do not know if I have told you. I was never an angel. As you would know and so, it's not wise to call me one."

_Erik. _It suited him. "Oh," She replied, "Well, do you not want me to call you angel?"

He did not answer.

She took his silence as a compensable answer and just watched him. She watched as he watched her. Her eyes scrutinized the white mask that hid the half of his face and she had the urge to retrieve it.

_To take away his pain. _But he would never understand. Christine knew how much he detested his face. He couldn't even face himself on a clear surface.

_But you're so beautiful; _she wanted to tell him, _my beautiful angel._

There was nothing about Erik that Christine couldn't say was angelic. His voice. His ways of expression. His passion. And of course, his love to her was angelic.

But she left him.

And right now, her mind was confused on why she had.

Why she had _risked _losing her angel.

As she looked at him, Christine didn't know how she could've slept knowing she had basically taken his life. She didn't know how she could've coped without him _there. _In the Opera House – he had been her fear…but also her haven.

She never slept till she heard him sing. And, he never disappointed. She supposed that by the end, she had been so consumed with fear…and pain that her angel had betrayed her that she had focused deeply on the deception.

The fact that he _lied _to her. The fact that he killed…the fact that he imprisoned her…the fact that he was a hateful man…

_A hateful man._

How wrong she was. This was not him…he was not as he was portrayed and seen by everyone else. Her angel was not hateful.

She had focused on everything else but his _love _for her. And she couldn't believe she had missed it. And because she had, she had hurt him and she felt awful.

It had been so long and she had relied on him. He _saved _her. That is why he meant so much. Because of the time…and the fact that he was a wound she could not close. He _had _saved her.

_But I didn't save you._

In fact Christine had torn him apart. She was responsible.

So, she _had _killed him.

An injured look swept over her face.

* * *

Erik found that his body was feeling warmer than it usually was. All of course derived from her sweet, arousing _touch. _He couldn't _stop _staring at her. He couldn't leave. He didn't answer because he simply could not. He could barely _move. _

_She wanted me._

_She called me._

All the injured emotions – his aching heart – his wounded _mind…_had all left just from her embrace.

Her voice blew away his anger. His hate. And as she stared at him, Erik found that he could feel something again.

_His heart._

For a few nights now, Erik thought he had lost it.

"Christine," He called her, hoping to break her trance-like state, "What is it that bothers you so?"

She seemed upset that he noticed as he found her failing to hide her indignant expression. He watched briefly as she pursed pale lips together and then she shook her head. Erik's eyes were drawn to her brown curls almost immediately.

"You look so sick, Erik."

Her murmur made his eyes drift upwards. "Sick?" It was his turn to shake his head, "I'm not sick."

"You're so pale…" She then continued, discarding his reply and walking towards him softly, "…I had killed you, haven't I? And you have come to haunt me."

Erik watched as the full moon above lovingly hovered over Christine – highlighting every feature of her face like a spotlight. The trees rustled as she continued to stroll, step by step, wistfully towards him. Her feet barely touched the floor and Erik imagined that she was gliding. Flying over the floor.

_Like an angel…You are the real angel Christine. Not I._

"No," Erik replied, tracing his look upwards as she stopped – a few centimetres away from him, "Christine, I am here. _With you." _

He failed to understand why she even thought of such a thing.

He supposed it was down to the fact that he had slept very little. In fact, he couldn't recall doing any of it. Eating? Eating was the least of his priorities and he had been without an appetite for a few days.

He didn't want to eat.

He had wanted her.

And now he had her, Erik thought that he wouldn't _mind _dying now.

_She wanted me._

That thought was enough to send his heart to the depths of heaven.

Christine's spellbound look continued, although it was not of awe but of _pain. _And the moon highlighted the slight glaze over her large brown eyes. She was sad. And Erik didn't know why.

"Why did you return, Erik?" She asked tone almost cold as she tore her gaze towards his shoulder, as if to avoid his searching eyes.

"I had wanted to bid you farewell, Christine. You should know that I would not leave without informing you."

"Leave?" She stepped forwards.

"I'm a _murderer _Christine. I cannot stay," He paused, voice slipping volume, "And anyway…I thought you'd be _relieved _if anything."

She heard his second statement and Erik found that her look of awe had now turned into slight confusion. Her eyebrows had knotted and her mouth opened but no words echoed out. A few moments later, a small few did,

"I thought…I thought you had come to collect me."

Her expression tightened. Erik's body stiffened.

"_Collect _you? C-c-collect you?! I -" He leaned his head forwards, "Christine, why would I?– I – I thought you wanted to leave me!"

_So confused._

_So confused._

_Collect her? _Erik's head throbbed on cue.

"I know!" She protested back, "I thought I did too…"

Erik then watched as she fully looked away and just stared at the ground on her feet. Stating with a quieter voice,

"_You_ let _me_ go_,_ Erik."

He didn't know how to reply. He had let her go. He had told her to leave. He had set the boy free and had basically set the foundations of his and Christine's future life together. But the way she said it – it was almost like it was _his _fault.

"You let _yourself _go, Christine."

Erik muttered coldly, closing the distance between them, softly taking a finger and lifting her chin to meet his cold, dark gaze, "I _told _you, I loved you."

Emotions writhed inside Erik as he struggled to comprehend _what _Christine was intending. What she was saying. _To collect her? _A shed of sadness took over him, wiping the happiness he thought he had accumulated.

Did she want him to take her away from the boy?

But he thought…A memory flashed.

_Oh Angel, you deceive me._

"Do you love Raoul, Christine?" He asked her, both their bodies as still as statues.

"Yes." She answered, eyes glinting up at his.

Erik's heart throbbed.

"Then…do you love me?"

No answer. Erik blinked away stray tears as he found his hand being taken and held. Christine stepped away from him, holding his cold grip.

"I don't know, Erik." She said, looking ashamedly, "I do not…understand…me and you."

_Just say yes, Christine. _Erik's mind cried, _just tell me you love me._

His cruel mind imagined her saying the words. His heart falling out of his mouth. Everything in the world exploding in a mirage of colour and music. _'I love you Erik,' _She would say and Erik would smile and carry her away into the night in song.

But she did not say it.

_I do not understand me and you…_she had said.

Erik looked up at the moon, once more taken by its beauty. Only two things ever reminded him of the moon. The dark…and his _loneliness._

And he felt lonely again.

"Christine," He choked, "…I let you go because I thought you'd be _happy. _I had hope, you'd return to me but you had not. Do not give me anymore of this…hope." His eyes drew towards her painfully, not believing what he was saying,

"I am _tired _Christine. You have scarred me, and now you open more wounds. Just tell me you are happy with the boy and…I shall be on my way. I did not even mean to wake you.." He slid his hand away from her soft, warm hold.

Erik couldn't stay. This…this hurt. This confusion. This _longing. _She didn't love him.

No-one could love a beast. However much _hope _there was in him…it could not happen.

This wishing inside of him coiled around his other hurt emotions. He didn't want the hope anymore. Because, she was just _tired. _Like him.

Tomorrow, she will make love to that boy like he had imagined her to be doing. And she shall forget her angel.

How silly of him to think of such a thought. Christine loving him?

No, that could not be.

"Erik…" Christine's eyes shed a tear.

Erik's heart sank.

"Do not leave me again." She breathed the few words, each word blazing with such devotion that it took him.

_I don't want to leave you, Christine._

He moved towards her, frozen hand slowly lifting and gently caressing her smooth, damp cheek. Her touch. Her feel. It sent so much feeling around his corpse-like body_._

_Human again._

He had wanted to do that when she had slept. A final touch before he departed. But now, he almost wished he hadn't.

Each stroke was like a whip of pain for both of them.

It was a gesture of a goodbye. He felt her body incline a sob and he pursed his lips,

_I'll never let you fall, Christine._

"What do you want me to do, Christine?" He asked, soothingly, "Please, tell me."

Christine's eyes were closed as she stifled the sobs that were seemingly building inside of her. Erik continued to soothe her slowly, still stroking her cheek with his frozen touch.

* * *

"_What do you want me to do, Christine?"_

Christine opened her eyes and focused solely on the cold feel of his fingers on her face.

It was so familiar.

Yet, so painful.

For a moment as their eyes met, Christine found herself being able to understand the man. Simply because they were both feeling the same thing.

_Hurt._

"Stay." She answered him, tone similar to his, "Stay with me, Erik. Even for a moment."

_I'm not ready yet. Stay, till I am._

* * *

_Stay._

The way that she said it…Erik's eyes hazed over. Forgetting everything that happened, Erik stopped and then _embraced _her.

Except their embrace this time was tight and both held each other till they could almost breathe no more.

The embrace was stricken with emotional distress.

But Erik found himself wishing that the moment could stay as it is forever. Like a picture. He breathed in the scent of her hair and tightened the wrap around her waist.

_Never let go._

She felt him press her head against his shoulder. Erik shook away the confusion and treasured every point of the moment. He wanted to be able to recall this moment. Everything.

He felt…he just _felt. _It was almost as empowering as when she had kissed him. Everything had melted against the background and it was just both of them.

Yet this time, he couldn't let her go.

They held each other so tight that it was almost like if they wouldn't they would…_lose _each other.

It was so comforting.

So beautiful.

_What I have always wanted._

"I'll stay with you forever, Christine." Erik closed his eyes, focusing only on her managing to listen to his meaningful words, "But you confuse us so…my love. You confuse us so."

He felt her shake against him and then he heard muffled sobs.

"No," He murmured, "Do not cry, please."

"I'm so sorry…Erik." He heard her say, "I'm so sorry."

Both held the embrace but Erik did not reply.

The silence overcame and as always, it spoke volumes.

_It always spoke volumes._

Erik held his love, feeling her pained cries and aching sobs whisper through him agonizingly. However, he let her cry, simply because it was good to cry.

Sometimes.

She needed it, he knew.

And slowly, he began to rock, moving his feet side to side like a dance. He hummed; soft music floating out of his mouth and he found her sobs began to recede. His hums became louder until it transformed into music and they were dancing.

The moonlight shone above them. Erik continued to hum, eyes closed, knowing that Christine was doing the same.

"Erik,"

"Hm?"

"All of this…it's not right, is it?" Christine trailed, voice croaking against his melodic theme.

_Why, Christine, why?_

Erik kept his eyes closed and he did not answer. He just kept humming, but the melody quietened and slowed and their dance did the same.

"It feels right to me." He whispered back to her.

Their dance and the song came to an abrupt end. They stayed in each other's arms hearing only each other's heartbeat as before.

Knowing very well that the best way to not hurt each other was to let the silence speak for them - they did exactly that.

However, this time, their silence spoke no volume.

Only their soundless thoughts broke the silence.

_What am I supposed to do? _Christine thought, breathing harshly, _I love Raoul. Yet, I cannot leave my angel._

_I cannot leave her yet she will not love me, _Erik's thoughts murmured at him, _please decide soon my love. You are hurting us._

…_I don't want to hurt him…_

…_I don't want to hurt her…_

They both exhaled at the same time.

"Are you alright?" Erik asked Christine, tone of voice almost completely inaudible.

Christine forced a weak nod,

_No. I'm not._

"I'm fine…are you?"

_No. I'm not._

"Yes." Erik mumbled, eyes broadening across the distance sleepily.

The lies floated weakly in the air.

In their hearts however, it hovered heavily.

_Like a stone on feathers._

* * *

_One can not truly experience the beauty of love  
without enduring the pain  
that comes with it once it is lost. -- Anonymous_

* * *

Author's Note:

Thank you so much for the positive reviews guys. I can say that there are going to be two chapters after this one and then it should be done :D Perhaps, one more after if you guys would like one. The next, I am...well, I am thinking about the ending. So, it's still unfinished. Anyhow, this is the hardest chapter out of the four, simply because there's so much emotion to put in a word document...and I had re-written this a couple of times, but I'm still unsure if you guys will like it.

So, yeah it'd be nice if you let me know, haha. But, thank you so much! The reviews made my day. Um, yeah. I've definitely confused my Erik and Christine, here. But both are definitely exhausted. Hm, and a happy ending?

....

...is my reply to that, haha. I am still rethinking the ending. Yupyup. Expect more tears, from my confused characters.

Thanks and love always, x


	5. The Only Choice

_There you are standing right in front of me  
There you are standing right in front of me  
All this fear falls away to leave me naked,  
Hold me close, cause I need you to guide me to safety._

* * *

Their embrace broke without either of them noticing.

To them, they were already worlds apart now. Each trying to reach other. And each knowing that however much they would try, they cannot.

They were worlds apart for a reason.

Christine stood, watching the moon for a moment, deep in her trench of thoughts.

Her eyes felt tired from crying and her throat was croaky from the quiet, tantalizing sobs she has expressed. She cried for Erik. She cried for herself. She was causing both of them so much ache.

But she couldn't decide.

However much she wanted to see Raoul every morning and hear his soft voice call her from downstairs – the need to hear Erik's comforting songs, and feel his irreplaceable touch matched it to the point of equality.

She misunderstood Erik and now she was seeing him properly for the first time in years. She didn't want to miss the opportunity. Erik wasn't a cold-blooded killer.

He was just _in love._

_With me…_

_Sigh. _She didn't want to speak about it. If this was the final night she'd ever spend with Erik, she didn't want it to be about the pain. That could come later.

Softly, the brunette waded over into the tree and sat beneath. She watched as Erik watched her, brow quirking as he watched her squeeze into the corner of the trunk. He too seemed to have broken his train of thoughts. She could only imagine what they were.

The ground felt cold beneath her fingers so she crossed her arms and crossed her legs, face just staring bemusedly towards the masked man stood in front of her.

"Erik," She told him, voice beginning to level to normal, "Please… sing for me."

The request seemed to have taken him aback and he looked at her, the haze in his eyes fading. "What?" He barked.

"Sing for me," Christine repeated, "I'd like to hear you again."

He seemed to be more comfortable and he looked up for a moment before directing his gaze towards her again,

"What would you like me to sing?"

"Anything."

_I just want to hear you._

Erik seemed to quieten.

He was thinking his thoughts again, and Christine once more wished she could hear them.

* * *

She wanted him to sing to her.

There were a lot of songs Erik had never sung to her, but they didn't matter now. They were songs created when he was in the very depths of the delusion that she loved him too. They were songs that were composed with the soul he had now lost and the emotion that was now exhausted.

They were songs that said _I love you _in many different languages – in many different ways. He had composed songs that were all about how he made Christine feel. But now he knew that he didn't _know _how he made her feel. So all the beautiful words…the fresh metaphors…the amorous melodies…they were wasted.

He didn't however want to sing a song that he had already sung, simply because it brought too many memories. That was the least thing they needed right now.

He withdrew his solicitous look away from the ground which he had moved his gaze towards, and up to her. Her face…it was so needy.

She wanted him to sing to her. And so, he shall.

Words flooded his mind. Melodies gathered in his throat. Music filled his insides till every part of his body inwardly sung. He needed a melody – without his piano, of course it would be difficult but it did not take long.

Immediately, a bar formed in his head and soon more after. Erik, being more of a lyricist found no problem in thinking of the words he should use.

He used every emotion. Every ounce of feeling he's had throughout the meeting and made it so it told a story. He used every drop of confusion…of anger…of annoyance…of impatience…and then…

He was ready.

It was time Christine knew how he felt about _her. _

Beginning to walk forwards, Erik opened his mouth and began.

'_I am not, the man you wished for,_

_In your dreams when you slept,_

_I am not, the man you dreamed of,_

_In the journals that you kept,_

_I am not your prince, in his shining glory,_

_I am the enemy of every story,_

_Killers of dreams, taker of wishes,_

_That is how the world sees me,_

_And yet you stand here,_

_Waiting with me,_

_Tell me, beauty, tell me…_

_Why…_

_You should be there in his room of kindness,_

_Next to him, draped to him, _

_You should be there, dreaming of stardom,_

_Singing in palaces, creating a storm,_

_I do not dream of stardom,_

_I do not make a storm,_

_I create havoc by showing my face,_

_I create havoc in any place,_

_People run, screaming in fear,_

_And yet you stand here,_

_Waiting with me,_

_Tell me, beauty, tell me…_

_Why…_

His voice deepened,

_I do not deserve you, _

_I do not deserve your time,_

_You should choose to ignore me,_

_As I am known to be unkind,_

_I am apparently beastly,_

_With a heart as cold as stone,_

_I am apparently horrid,_

_With anger sunk to the bone,_

_I am known to steal belongings,_

_Belongings that are not mine,_

_People say to watch your back, dear,_

_Because I may be behind,_

_I am not the man you dreamt of,_

_I am not what you need,_

_I am a man, who is blessed,_

_With a face that is hideously undressed,_

_You, do not need me._

_You should not need me._

_You should not be with me…_

Erik's voice began to sing in a soft whisper,

_And yet you stand here,_

_Waiting with me,_

_Tell me, beauty, tell me…_

_Why…_

_You should not be with me,_

_You should be there too,_

_And you might never need me,_

His eyes focused solely on her as his voice receded to a hum for the final line,

_But I need you…_

Erik finished, a little breathless, a little emotional and a little surprised. He had never felt so tired singing a song before. His throat felt like it had not sung a while and his chest was now aching.

But he meant it. He meant every single word.

_Why is beauty here?_

_Beast can never deserve his beauty._

His eyes withdrew from his position and he looked closely at Christine's reaction. He had been looking at her the whole time but his mind had been so consumed by the song that he failed to register how she was taking it. And when he had sung the final part, his eyes had drawn towards the moon.

As he eyed her now, Erik was knocked by her face. The moon was now enlightening her once more and her face – every feature was at awe. It reminded him of the face she had when he first sung to her. Every piece of her expression made Erik's heart skip paces. He loved the fact that she looked like that. It meant that she was listening.

And that was all he wanted her to do.

"What was that called?" She murmured to him, large eyes shining.

Erik chuckled, void of any humour and crouched to her sitting level,

"_Why_," He told her, "It is your song. From my heart, to yours."

She was touched, obviously by the whole performance. "Oh, Erik." She whispered, "That was so beautiful…yet untrue – I…want to be here and I need you too...don't forget."

He watched a smile – the first smile, he'd seen her smile for a while – appear on Christine's face. It was tired, but natural. Erik decided that his mission had been accomplished.

And then, he stood up once more. "Christine," He said desolately, "You do understand that I cannot stay past daylight. If I depart now, it is bound to be forever."

_Decide my love, please._

"I don't know what to do," was the weak reply that Erik got in return, "Every time I look at Raoul – I think of you, only. When I had found out that you had perished, I was heartbroken. But I love Raoul. That is why…I had chosen him that night."

A spark of anger thudded in his chest.

"Well if you _love _him so much then perhaps you should _go _to him," Erik jested coldly, "You do not love me Christine. I have sung to you and still you do not. It's evident. Your decision is evident."

"It is not evident!"

Christine stood up next to him, furious by his reply, "Do you think I would still _be_ here if I had an _evident _decision? Erik?! You don't _understand _how hurt I'm feeling!"

It was Erik's turn to be incensed.

"I – I don't understand what _YOU'RE _feeling?!" His voice froze as he let out a sadistic chuckle. He watched Christine's face sadden at his mocking. "Christine." He growled, "Do _not _talk to _me _about _hurt."_

He shook his head, "You have _not _felt pain…" He murmured.

"I have not felt pain?!" Christine's eyes flashed alarmingly, "Give me it then, Erik. What is pain? What is pain _to you?"_

Her last word whimpered in desperation.

Erik's heart dropped, "Knowing someone will_ never_ love you, Christine," He snarled dejectedly, head shaking, "_That's _pain. Knowing that you cannot show your face to the world. _That's _pain. _You _have not felt pain. Not mine."

Christine silenced only hearing Erik's deep, heedless exhales.

"Erik…"

"No, Christine." He mumbled miserably, "I should have not sung. I should've gone as intended. If I wait, it'll cause us more disagreements…I'd rather we ended in a happy note."

"A happy note?"

"Yes." He looked at her, eyes twinkling forlornly, "Apart. I'd rather depart knowing that you love the boy. Not thinking that you might…in a century…feel for me."

His words, they hurt the woman. Erik knew that of course. But what was he to do? He could see where this direction was heading. She was going to say that she loved Raoul again. And, he swore that if he heard it again– Erik would lose everything and strangle the boy. He couldn't hear it anymore.

Erik began to walk, deeper into the gardens. The place was huge and trees stretched towards the moon. That was where he wanted to be. He continued, ignoring the fact that he could hear footsteps stalking him from behind. He heard the footsteps stop and he found himself stopping too. They stopped in the furthest reaches of the tree garden where the grass was high and the moonlight was almost in full.

He was about to continue when something halted him. Something…he was hearing.

Christine was singing.

She was singing to him.

'_You might say you are beastly,_

_You might say you're unkind,_

_You might have people fleeing,_

_When you are there behind,_

_But I will never fear you,_

_I will never scream, _

_You are the light in my darkness,_

_And you are the man in my dreams,_

_You are the man in the journals I've kept,_

_You are the man that I wept for,_

_The man I've loved in depth,_

_You are the man I wish for,_

_And in my heart you are kept,_

Her voice softened as Erik turned around to meet her gaze.

_And yet you stand here waiting with me,_

_Waiting for me to decide,_

_I do not deserve you,_

_Tell me beauty, tell me why_

_For I do not deserve you,_

_You deserve so much more, _

_A woman who will never confuse you,_

_And cherish you to the core, _

There was silence as Christine stepped forwards and touched his, cold, white mask. She smiled and Erik nodded.

Together, they finished the song. Voices blending together like they've never been apart.

_You should not be with me,_

_You should be there too,_

_And you might never need me,_

_But I need you…_

There was silence as the final note was sung.

"You are right, Christine. That was a beautiful song," Erik said, professing a nod.

"That was called Erik's song." She nodded, "It's as beautiful as you."

"My perfect memory," Erik breathed, "Thank you Christine."

She just nodded weakly. "Your welcome."

Her poor, poor Erik. Christine had never realized his vulnerability until when she had sung to him. He was…touched.

"Erik, am I your first love?" She then asked, deciding to not bring another silence.

"Yes." Erik murmured, "After music and architecture, it was you."

"Will you ever love another?"

No answer.

"Erik?"

"I do not know Christine," He replied, accompanying it with a sigh, "I do not."

Christine stood, unbothered.

"Did you know that when I was in the Opera House – I used to send away suitors as I was afraid you shall ascend up into heaven…?"

"Hm?"

Erik wasn't particularly surprised by this. He _knew _his power over her in her fragile years. Unfortunately he had used his power to delude himself – not, to woo her. All the power over her had gone now. His feeling of superiority had rotted away with it.

_That _Erik was gone. This Erik was the _real _Erik. The desperately in love, Erik. The Erik that his beloved could drive insane just by a stare.

The Erik that was still wishing on stars. The Erik that still believed that in a world that resembled a court room – there would be a person who would not judge him.

Someone, like _her._

"Yes. It was – I could never sleep without your voice."

There was a pause.

"Then," Erik shook from side to side, "What does that mean?"

Then, taken by surprise, Erik found himself taking a stunned step backwards as he was knocked into by Christine.

* * *

_The perfect words never crossed my mind,  
Cause there was nothin' in there but you.  
I felt every ounce of me screaming out,  
But the sound was trapped deep in me.  
_

* * *

Not for pain. But for a kiss.

She pressed warm, pale lips against his and Erik found his thoughts beginning to flourish.

She tasted like _sin. _And he found himself wanting her even more. He forgot the thoughts about pain and departure and moved his lips harmoniously with hers. It had been the second time and once more, Erik found himself losing.

Breaths were taken from his chest and just when she had placed a hand on the back of his head – a memory flashed.

It was all like before.

Two decisions. One kiss.

Erik felt like he had just been electrocuted and found his lips stopping – just as it had before – but this time, he did not cry. Instead, he looked at Christine's face – just as it had been before – and found himself stunned by knowledge.

_Knowledge of what was happening._

Christine then tried to come closer and he shook his head, stepping away.

"No, Christine – you…you have chosen, haven't you?"

Christine did not answer.

The floods of sad tears that followed after was enough to break Erik's heart all over again.

_All over again._

He eyed her, emotionless.

"Christine, you-"

"I'm so sorry, Erik…"

_Christine stop talking…_

"…but I can't do it to him. Not yet."

_Christine…I love you…_

_Christine I'll never let you fall._

_Christine…_

_Christine…_

Erik found that his eyes had followed after Christine, shedding their own cold tears.

_Just like before._

Anger swept through him.

_Just like before._

He found his stomach feeling sick. He felt like curling up in a corner…He waited for her footsteps to commence…

_Just like before._

It hurt Erik that even though he had gone through the process, it all still felt new to him.

_Just like before._

"I'm so sorry, Erik." Christine repeated, eyes longing for some glint of emotion in stone eyes.

Erik eyed her blankly,

"Yes Christine," He told her bleakly, tone void of any form of feeling, "_Just like before." _

And once more, Erik found himself being surrounded by the blackness. The blackness that had trapped him in air that suffocated him... Air that made him twist and coil in pain. Air stained with memories and air…and brokenness.

His chest felt like it had compressed and crushed his pathetic excuse of a heart.

Once more, she had shattered him.

And once more, Erik had let her.

_The angel that dragged me to the depths of my hell…_

This was goodbye.

Goodbye, all over again.

* * *

For a while, Erik did nothing but just watched Christine pour every piece of emotion she had through her eyes.

_So, this is goodbye._

"Erik…speak to me," Christine managed to croak above the cries, "Please, speak to me."

_What do you want me to say, Christine?_

His mind blurted. Erik however did not say anything.

Instead, he leaned forwards and brushed the warmly falling tears from her eyes.

"I'm not ready yet…Erik. I cannot do it to him…" She was gurgling, "Cruel fate…cruel fate…why…" Another fresh batch of tears came.

His eyes looked coal black in the darkness. Inside, emotions twitched as she watched her cry.

_Cry for me._

Inside, Erik was cold. It was winter. It was lonely. It was hollow.

It was _dark._

He was now the Phantom again. Empty and forgotten. But, still, even as Phantom, he loved the woman in front of him. Loved her with the heart that never beats. Loved her with a soul as dark as a shadow. The Phantom loved his angel.

The Phantom could deal with this better than Erik.

Erik was in the corner of his mind, sobbing, tearing his heart apart. The Phantom inside of Erik held no heart.

If this was the last time he'd see Christine, then he would make it perfect.

Slowly, the man kissed her cold tears away. And then he kissed her lips. And for a moment, he thought she would force him away. But she did not.

_She wanted me._

Instead she incited him towards her and the Phantom found the blackness beginning to recede. Their mouths took away each other's inhibited breaths and both inflamed each other with raw passion.

_Bliss._

And then, softly, they were on the grass – the cold foliage feeling startlingly warm. The moon hazed over as midnight came and then, they both found themselves in darkness, only seeing each other's doting face.

Erik laid over Christine, pausing for a moment as he drew in the flavour of the moment. Every feeling. Every thought. He watched Christine's thoughtful expression and slowly, he watched her fingers ease away the mask. He said nothing.

And then, he heard her soft voice murmur the words that he had waited all – all of his life to hear,

"I love you, Erik."

The man watched her eyes glaze over – but she did not cry. Instead, she began to laugh. But it wasn't a cruel laugh. It was light and heavenly. She stopped and pulled him by his collar, closing their distance. "I really, really do," Her tone however changed to a slightly pained one as she placed a finger on his lips, "Remember that, please."

_How about Raoul?_

_Is this a dream?_

_Do you mean it?_

Erik's thoughts struggled as emotions took a high. However, he decided to discard them.

To forget them all.

Because, that could come later…

She had said it. She had said she loved him.

Christine watched the pensive look dance across Erik's straightly thoughtful features and smiled, pulling him down into her.

And, for the rest of that night, Erik found that his cruel imagination had told him the future.

The world to Erik did turn into a mirage of colour and song. And flight and birds. And touch and _love. _

The world to Christine turned into her father's promise of angels and heaven. And flowers and dance. And _Erik. _

This was their happy ending. Erik and hers.

Their worlds were finally together.

And as he slept, breathless and exhausted, beside her, Christine kissed him on the head. "Remember that I love you Erik," She murmured into his ear, hoping that he heard it somehow in his dreams, "And whatever comes tomorrow…I love you."

Tears gently fell, "Remember…" She continued and in a lower voice, "_Forgive me." _

* * *

_In the confusion and the aftermath,  
You are my signal fire.  
The only resolution and the only joy,  
Is the faint spark of forgiveness in your eyes._

* * *

Author's Note:

-- All the lyrics in the little seperation spaces are from 'Signal Fire' by Snow Patrol :D

Right, SORRY this took so long. Just took a little bit of a road block, but I'm fine now! Haha, I've even written the ending. So, as said thank you so very, very much for the reviews as I do appreciate them very much! My Erik and Christine are sad no? Poor, poor Erik indeed. Anyway, if you really want a happy ending, I suggest you don't read on xD haha, be warned.

I think I love this chapter the most, simply because Erik becomes a little cheerier. So yes, please let me know what you think! Haha.

I promise the ending will come after this. Love Never Dies tickets just blew away my writer's block! Haha.

Love and thanks always x


	6. Foretelling

Erik turned in his sleep.

His dream had distorted into a deep nightmare.

An identical Erik was sobbing on the floor.

He was hovering in the air and was watching himself sob. It was almost as if he was someone else.

_"Erik," _He told the crying Erik heartily, _"Why do you cry?"_

Crying Erik didn't hear him. And so, he moved closer. Opening his mouth to ask once more, something came into view.

Something that made Erik stop and stare.

On the floor across crying Erik was a _heart. _A dead, black heart. It sat on the white floor, lifeless.

And as he looked at his counterpart in full view, a hole had been punctured through crying Erik's chest. A pure, hollow one.

_Taken._

Erik eyed the heart and the hole confusedly.

_"What happened?"_

And then, crying Erik raised his head. 

_"She took it out, Erik…" _His voice sounded distant, _"She took it out of me." _

_"What do you mean?" _He began to stumble backwards, reversing into a void.

Crying Erik picked up the heart and shoved it in his direction,

Maliciously, he growled, _"See for yourself." _

Erik screamed as the crying Erik began to _laugh. _

"_No point screaming, Erik…" _He shrieked, "_You know that monsters never have happy endings."_

_

* * *

_

Darkness took over as the nightmare disappeared and real Erik found himself absently moving a hand to his still beating chest.

And as he continued to sleep, Erik found that the same dream repeated over and over. Until he could scream no more. 

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hm, yeah, I'm sure I told you the next chapter is going to be the last one but I cut this out of the fifth one since I thought tis quite long already so I thought it'd be rather nice to fit it in as a half chapter anyway xD Think of it as a quarter chapter. Anyhow, I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank for the reviews! I am doing the last touches on the ending (perfectionist, y'see) no, not really but I'm just trying to get it right!

And yes, I did write the song and I'm glad I'm making you guys emotional, haha. And the happy ending...

Well, it'd depends on what you mean by 'happy' xD But yes, the ending shall come tomorrow, hopefully if not the next day.

Love always! x


	7. It's The End Where I Begin

*CRIES* No, not the end already :/

* * *

It was approaching dawn and Erik was awoken by the sound of movement.

As his eyes fluttered open, he became aware that his eyes were particularly sore.

_Crying…_

Segments from a dream faded into his consciousness but he failed to recall what exactly in his dream had caused him to shed tears. Everything had been perfect last night. But something…something...happened.

Placing a hand over his face, he searched faithfully for his mask and then slowly he returned it back to its home. As he sat up, he realized that there was something he'd forgotten…

_Christine._

Eyes grew wider as he turned to each side, trying to find her. She wasn't beside him.

_She left me?_

A fierce feeling of astonishment streamed into Erik… _Could she leave me? _In desperation, he began to stand up and then –

"Morning…"

Christine's voice drifted into his ears and he quickly turned his head to where the voice came from. She stumbled from behind him. She looked tired. It was difficult to see her as the sky was still meticulously dark but he could still manage to make her out…and that was all that mattered.

_You're still here..._

"Morning." He returned, a little breathless. His heart thumped inside his chest from the fear…the agitation…

Erik sat down once more and eyed the sky bleakly. He heard Christine sit beside him and he turned to watch her, wordless.

Her face was thoughtful. And, he noticed that she was nervy in the way that she was fidgeting with the grass.

_You want to tell me something._

"Do you want to say something?" He asked, eyes gazing at her warmly. Christine stopped picking at the grass and looked up at him.

Her eyes told nothing.

"Erik." She said his name softly, "Oh, Erik."

Erik looked at her, confused with her repetition. The emotions inside of him whirled as she said no more and they both just ended up concluding into a deep silence.

_Last night…Christine…_

He however didn't look at the sky anymore. Not like Christine had. He just looked at her. Reading her. Last night, he had seen her. He _had _her.

Yet, now she looked like a complete stranger.

And then, understanding came.

The music of understanding came. And Erik recalled his dream.

His insides screamed with pain.

_Oh dear God._

Her eyes. Her silence. Her fidgeting. The way she avoided his touch.

Agony stunned him to the point that his jaw clenched to contain silent screams. Eyes misted over as he watched her, horrified.

_It could not be._

_Please._

_No._

Erik's heart felt heavy as he touched her hair with his fingers. She did not move.

"He was right…" He murmured, "Monsters never have happy endings."

The words shot his heart right through, letting emotional pain sear through his veins. Erik ignored it and watched as Christine finally turned to face him.

She opened his mouth and he shook his head, closing his eyes emotionlessly.

"I know what you want." Erik said, face paled.

_Don't do it. She's yours…_

He kept his eyes closed, unable to bear seeing her face,

"You gave me what I wanted last night…" Erik's tone wavered as tears threatened. He ignored the feeling.

_Don't…_

His heart wrenched. Lungs heaved. Throat dried. Yet, Erik found the strength to keep speaking. To speak one final time.

"Now…" He opened his eyes and let his fingers drop from her hair, "It's your turn." He watched her expression mimic his.

She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

_Say I'm wrong…_

Erik closed his eyes to dissuade more tears and forced them open again.

"If you go now, he won't notice you departed." Erik stood, "I shall help you get there but I will not-"

Christine cried into her hands.

He crouched down and stooped forwards, holding her.

"Erik…" She was whispering, "Angel…"

_Oh dear God._

_The pain…the pain…don't cry Christine…_

_Just go._

_Just go._

Erik tightened his hold on her, making sure she felt it. Making sure she felt him_. _Making sure she felt how he felt.

This was the most excruciating thing Erik found he ever had to do.

And, she needed to know that.

"Christine," He whispered to her, getting lost in her rose-scented locks, "Sometimes…you love someone enough to let them go…"

He felt her shake. "And you know how I love you…" His voice grew desperate, "I love you so much…"

_So, so much._

And soon after that, Erik found that he was crying too.

"I know what you w-want…" His body was shaking, heart clenching, head throbbing, "I know it."

_Just like before._

_Slipping through my fingers again._

But this time around, it hurt so much more.

Because he had felt heaven.

And now, he was letting it glide from his grasp.

_So close, yet so far._

A few moments passed and Erik felt her raise her head. He followed through and seconds later, they were sitting in front of each other. Eyes hollow and tired.

_Oh my love. How will I ever -_

He couldn't believe he was doing it. Erik was sure that after this – this decision will haunt him and he'd probably regret it for the rest of his life.

But Christine didn't belong to him.

Not now.

It was _she _who mattered. It wasn't what he wanted. And when he had made love to her, he knew very truly that she had meant that she loved him.

But it wasn't the love she had for Raoul.

Erik's heart writhed.

_Sometimes you love someone enough to let them go._

He eyed Christine. Oh, how beautiful she was.

How beautiful she'll always be. How beautiful it was last night.

Last night – every moment from her embrace and from her sleep to sleeping in each other's arms – was the most wonderful night Erik had ever had.

Because he was _loved._

_Someone loved me._

Erik's life had been fulfilled last night.

And he knew that _whatever _happened now…Erik, in one way or another was _happy._

It was her turn.

Christine leaned forward and touched his face. Erik closed his eyes, savouring the touch.

_How I'll miss you._

"Remember what I told you, last night Erik," She uttered, biting her lip, eyes misty, "You are my angel."

"And, you are mine." Erik took her hand and pressed it with a kiss.

There was a silence as the sky began to clear.

Erik watched the small breaks of light illuminate the garden floor. He withdrew his eyes from it and then stood.

_If this is goodbye_

She followed sought.

No words could ever summarize what Erik felt at that point. He was so consumed with everything. Overwhelmed. Pained. Hurt. But, the hurt didn't overcome him yet.

He was overcome by her love.

By everything about her.

Taking Christine's hand, they began to walk towards the house silently.

_Go back Erik._

They approached the tree that they had first taken shelter in and Erik paused. "If I come much closer, they'll see me, Christine…" He trailed, "I suppose this is…"

_Oh dear God._

The first shots of pain came through him and his grasp around her hand tightened.

Christine eyed him then found her lips whimpering.

They stood together. Hand in hand. Watching.

Waiting.

Waiting.

"Erik, why are you giving this to me?" She murmured, "It causes you so much pain."

_So much pain._

"Because I promised I'd never let you fall, Christine," Erik said, words heavy in his tongue, "And I'll always keep my promises to you. If this makes you happy…then so be it."

She looked away and then pulled at his hand. Erik faced her and watched as she fished her hand inside her sleeping robe and took out…

Christine took his other hand and opened his palm. She dropped the object in the centre.

_The ring._

A memory flashed in Erik's head.

_Water…sinking…empty…_

He raised his head and felt her close his palm.

"It belongs to you." Christine told him, eyes glazed over making bright hues shine profusely, "From my heart, to yours."

Another memory flickered.

This time it was when she had given her the ring that night.

The night she said goodbye.

And Erik found himself inwardly screaming like he had done in his dream.

His silent screams were never professed though as instead he choked his thoughts inside and forced a…

A _smile._

It was cold and weary but it was a smile.

"Christine…I love you."

_Christine…I love you. _The words were familiar.

Tears pricked against his eyes and then just as he was about to turn away – just as he had before – he felt her hand press against his shoulder.

_Just go, Christine. _

_Spare me the torment._

But, she did not cry. Instead she smiled, tiredly back.

"I love you too, Erik."

The words were enough to make Erik cry. The way that she said it – it was stained with the feeling of distress, but also real affection.

Years of wishing she would love him.

Years of dreaming.

Now, coming true.

She paused, "I'm just not ready yet."

"I know…" He murmured, "And I shall return to you. I promise."

Christine met his eyes, "And I shall be waiting."

_Christine…I love you._

_Erik…I love you._

She pressed fingers from her lips to his. "Goodbye."

"This isn't goodbye, Christine." He nodded, "This is _hello._"

He watched her stifle a sob and then she began to walk away – swiftly, and quietly.

Erik watched as she clambered up the vines and he _wanted _her to turn back but found that she didn't.

She didn't turn.

_Christine…I love you._

_Why Erik why?_

Christine was never going to choose him. And if he had given her the time, they would've been under torment for eternity.

This way, it didn't hurt as much.

He watched as she disappeared behind into her room.

And Erik's body numbed.

_That _was the memory that will return to him one day and cause him to place his head on his hand and cry. There was no word – no sound to describe how much anguish that sight of her leaving gave him. _Nothing. _It was enough anguish that he urged to scream at the world – curse it – curse fate. Curse everything.

He had heard people say something about the pain of grief. The fact that time will heal the wounds.

Erik, refused to believe it. He was grieving yet the scars felt like forever. They were scars on a heart he now didn't want.

_Why, Erik…_

_Because sacrifice is required if one is to show love._

He exhaled, eyes opening, inhaling sharply as he found that he struggled for air for a moment. His head throbbed. Despondency filled him and Erik found himself stifling sobs.

_Oh dear God._

A hand pressed against his chest, feeling his beating heart.

_Why do you beat? When there is nothing to beat for?_

Eyes closed softly as their song whispered into his mind. Oh, how lovely their duet was. Oh, how lovely she was.

_Christine…I love you._

"Someday, Christine." He managed to choke out, tears now beginning to fall, "Someday."

His thoughts became a wreckage of misery and happiness - blended so it made a distorted portrait.

_And on that day I shall have you._

_And on that day, you'll be ready._

_And on that day, we'll be together._

Erik looked away, wiping tears with cold hands.

_Oh dear God, the pain._

It was insane. Years of torment and being called the son of Lucifer…nothing lived up to this pain of this farewell.

It was like he had been cut. New scars. New wounds. Realizing that this was goodbye, Erik found that there was a piece of him missing.

A piece she took with her.

But, Erik found he also had a new piece in him.

A piece that is hers forever.

Yes.

And then sunrise came and Erik found himself walking away.

For once, unkind light embraced him. Warmed him.

Just as he left, the man glanced at the ring – memories surfacing to the point that they were as vivid as if they were yesterday.

_My angel of music…_

_Roses…_

_Phantom of the Opera…_

_Don Juan…_

_Sing my angel…_

_Christine…I love you…_

_I wanted her…_

_She called me…_

Erik closed his eyes.

_I love you Erik…Remember that…_

Taking the ring, he placed it inside the chest pocket.

_Somewhere, I will never lose it._

Every memory twisted till it was to the memory of her goodbye.

And her face.

And her eyes.

And her lips.

And her taste.

_Back to square one._

_Alone._

The Phantom found that he felt death call him once more.

This time however, he found that there was actually something more overpowering than it.

This time, it was love that called him.

And nothing called louder than the call of her love.

_Someday, Christine, someday._

_And on that day we'll be together._

"Forever."

Escaping the gardens, Erik elegantly began to walk – daylight following him as the sun began to appear in the horizon. He walked with the sun, hand in hand, serenely. For once, he was not ashamed. He did not feel alone.

He was the angel before.

_The angel who lost his will to fly._

But, he wasn't that angel anymore.

Because he was given his wings back, and he was going to _soar._

Soar higher, than ever before.

* * *

Christine did not turn, in fear that she was going to see him – in tears.

The last time she had done that, she had ended up killing herself with the memory.

He was happy. Or at least, she thought he was and that was a good enough memory was it was.

It was going to take a while to sink in the fact that her angel of music was not going to be calling her.

Hence, Christine felt so numb.

But now, as she sat on her bed, exhausted, she realized there were so many things she hadn't told him.

_Thank you, Erik._

_Last night was wonderful, Erik._

_Please don't forget me, my love._

_Please remember to wrap up warm._

_Tell me where you are going._

_Take care…_

_Take care…_

Christine wondered for a moment if he was there.

She ran to her window, swung the windows open and eyed the emptiness of the garden. No-one was there. She inclined her head to get a glimpse of the tree but there was no shadow.

He had gone.

Tears stung.

"Christine?"

She turned and watched a half-asleep Raoul wander aimlessly into the bedroom.

"Yes?"

"You're awake early…" He smiled and came over to her, arms open for an embrace. Christine exhaled and ran to him, pressing her face into his shoulder, realizing how different it was to Erik.

How, she missed her angel. The needing forced her to press Raoul closer to her.

Raoul chuckled bemused by her closeness, "Did you have a bad dream?"

Christine held him close, wishing that he could give her the same sense of comfort as Erik had given her. Yet, it was still different.

"No, Raoul…" She murmured, raising her head and pecking him sweetly on the cheek,

"It was a good dream."

"How so?"

She took the question aside then touched his face softly, "I dreamed of angels," She murmured, "Beautiful, imperfect angels."

Raoul blinked, just smiling to pretend to understand what she meant.

Christine didn't have to explain.

She loved Raoul. So much so. But there were some things in life he'd never understand.

And someone, could.

_I'll wait for you, Erik._

_I promise._

* * *

_It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all._

* * *

FINAL AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Haha, this is the chapter that I definitely found the most difficult, simply because I soaked my keyboard with my tears :D Yes, so this is the ending that I have fortold. Christine and Erik do not end up together, and....well why? Well, I thought that Christine chose Raoul that night and if two nights after, Erik comes to take her away -- it'd still be too soon. And Erik, finally finding that she loves him too, can now go away and make something of himself and when he returns, she'll be ready! Haha, or so I think.

Anyway, now guys this is my SUPER OODLE THANK YOU for all the lovely reviews and the lovely tears you've shed for the story :] Now, I was planning, to write a sequel to this. I've written the first chapter, and it'd be much, much longer this next story...but I'll only do it if you guys would like one. It'd be an eleven years after one, and Erik...well, Erik's gonna be a little different. So yeah, if you think it's a good idea, lemme know! Haha, I think I'm going to love writing it.

But yes guys, thankyouthankyou. :D ILY all.

x


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